Текст книги "Forgive Us Our Trespasses"
Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Brooks
I hear the slam of the front door, leaving a silence throughout the house that blows a hole into my heart, exploding it into a million little pieces. I expected a desolate sadness, or even numbness to overtake my body; instead I feel a boiling anger flow through my veins, heating my skin and causing my heart to pound out of my chest.
I pace the kitchen, trying to calm down from the shaking tremors that are wracking my body. Realizing that nothing is easing my torment, I travel towards the living room where my demons await. I have been running from this exact situation since I found out about my true identity, and I know there isn’t a damn thing that will change until I finally face the fact that this man is my father, and his sins have been what have kept me from the only woman that I’ve ever loved.
I walk through the threshold and see my same eyes peer back at me. My father looks worn, looks beaten, and I can’t help but think that this could be me if I don’t fix this. Alone, a pathetic existence that regrets every fucking moment of their life; I can’t let that be me. As much as I want to feel bad for him, all I feel is disdain and rage. As much as I know that he and I are both to blame for Vivian leaving, I’m not ready to accept my role just yet.
“Did everyone leave on my account?” Raymond asks. I refuse to acknowledge that this man is my father.
“Yes,” I snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I haven’t moved any closer to him, nor has he moved from his station on the couch, both of us unsure how to proceed. My hands are firmly stuffed into my pockets, but my eyes are narrowed directly at his. If he had any question whether I would warmly receive him into my house, he surely knows the answer by now.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, son, I…” My hands fly out of my pockets, and before I realize that I’m even moving, I’m across the room and picking him up off the couch by the collar of his shirt. Slamming him into the nearest wall, I hear his head thud against the sheetrock. I hold him still, letting my forearm forcefully meet his throat. I feel his Adam’s apple wobble under my grip. His eyes widen, and as he struggles for breath, his hands wrap around my arm to create a wedge. I don’t loosen my grip; I slam him harder into the wall.
“I’m not your son. You haven’t earned the title of Father. Everything you do turns to shit, and I don’t want anything to do with you. I considered it ten years ago, and I lost everything because of that decision. I will not make the same mistake twice. Not when I’m so close to having everything I’ve ever wanted. And at no point were you ever part of that equation.”
Raymond stops struggling against my hold, and I relax my arm. “I’m sorry to have come here; I will never bother you again.” His voice is raspy and ragged; his eyes tell me he understands that I want nothing from him.
I let go of him, stumbling away, realizing that in this moment, I’m no better than he is. I feel my anger fade from my body, and remorse fills in the voids. After adjusting his rumpled clothing, he turns to leave, but I reach out, grabbing his elbow to stop him.
“Please, sit down, I need to you to understand this, understand me,” I tell him without meeting his eyes. I hear him sigh, but he does what I ask and sits on the couch.
I find myself pacing in front of him. My mind is swirling with the words to tell him; everything is jumbled, and every coherent, intelligent thought has escaped me. So many times I have started to think about what I would tell him when this moment came, because I knew it would eventually; I just never counted on Vivian being in my life when he and I would meet again. Not only did I walk away from Vivian ten years ago, I left Raymond as well. I left him in that jail to rot, hoping that I could escape from this situation; it was naïve of me, and I’m even more stupid now for letting it play out the way it has. I should have been honest from the very beginning; I should have contacted him when he was released to talk with him, instead of waiting for this surprise appearance. I should have told Vivian so much sooner. But I was a fucking coward, and now I have a big shitty mess to clean up, and I don’t care if it fucking kills me–I will clean it up.
“Look,” I say as I sit across from him in the recliner, “I didn’t mean to explode on you the way I did…”
“No, you don’t need to apologize; I understand. I showed up unexpected after a lot of years of no contact at all. We didn’t leave our relationship on good terms the last time we spoke, so I should have known better.”
“Why, then? Why are you here?” I ask pinning him with the nastiest glare I can muster. I automatically assume my swindling father is once again in trouble and here for no other reason than money. I don’t know a whole lot about this man, but from what little I do know, he was always after the quick buck, the next high, even if it was at the expense of those he cared about, including my mother and me. They never married, thank God, but he was also never in my life. No visits, Christmas cards, child support–I didn’t even have his last name. It wasn’t until I turned eighteen that the letters started, but even then I didn’t realize what he had really done. Not until I went to the courthouse with Vivian to view the records. That’s when I decided to see him for the first and last time.
Feeling the heat of my stare, he looks down at his hands, which are laced and roughly being rubbed together. “I know that I was a shit father, and that you don’t consider me anything more than a sperm donor that left you and your mom to fend for yourselves.”
“How much? Is that why you’re here now? You know I have money and you want some start-up funds for your new grand scheme? Money to stay out of my life?” The sarcasm drips from every word, and when he finally looks at me, I see that I’ve wounded him.
“I don’t want your money,” he stutters in a hushed tone. “I wanted the chance to get to know you, see the man you’ve become. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not the same person that I was; I’m trying to be better. I’m not proud of who I was, the things that I did, but I’m trying to be an honorable man for the first time in my life. I want to make something of the last half of my life, something you or I won’t be ashamed of.”
Fuck. I had waited my entire life to hear these golden fucking words from this man, and now that I know who he is, I wish he was still the big piece of shit that I remember so I could just walk away, just like I did ten years ago. I don’t want to get warm and fuzzy sharing the holidays with this man, but I don’t want to hate him anymore either.
I hop up and begin pacing in front of him, my hand violently gliding through my mangled hair. My options, what to tell him, and Vivian all twist in my mind. Things are spinning out of control, and I refuse to lose it all again like I did last time I found myself in this position. I swore that this time I would choose Vivian. Even though she left, I will find some way to get her back, and having lunches and friendly phone calls with Raymond Michaels is not the way back to the life that I could have, the one I’ve been waiting for.
“Dammit, you don’t understand; by allowing you in my life, I will lose everything. When we talked at the prison, I told you that I was in love with Vivian Donavan. I told you that I wanted to marry her, but that I was afraid what would happen if she found out how she and I were really connected, and that you are my father. What did you tell me?”
“I told you that if you really loved her, to walk away. Her knowing would only hurt her, and it would cause her even more pain to have to choose between you and the memory of her father.”
“Fuck if I didn’t; I followed your advice because I loved her more than I could ever love anything or anyone. I walked away; I made her believe that I didn’t love her and then disappeared. It was the biggest mistake I’ve made until now, and I’ve regretted it every day since. I should have told her; she had the right to make the choice for herself.”
Looking slightly perplexed, Raymond rubs his brow. “So what does this have to do with you and me now?” he asks, which only enrages me.
“Who the fuck do you think you just met this evening?” I bark, stopping mid-step. “We ran into each other again a few months ago, and I’ve been lucky enough to have another chance to make things right. But I messed it up all over again.”
“You never told her,” he sighs. “Why? Don’t you trust that she would pick you?”
“I was afraid of losing her. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t risk losing her again.” I allow my conquered body to fall onto the couch and slump into the side of the upholstered arm.
“Brooks?” he says, sliding toward the edge of his seat.
“Hmm?” My face is hidden in the crook of my arm, but I can hear him shuffle around.
“Vivian was the most polite, pleasant woman I’ve met in a long time. I could tell from the moment she spoke to me that she is forgiving and loving, and also, that she loves you. When she found out my name, she was surprised, but she never treated me any different. Her hurt didn’t lie with my presence; it was in your deceit.”
He stands from the couch, and I look up to meet his eyes. He was right; it wasn’t him being here that really hurt her; it was me that hurt her all over again. It was me not being honest with her, not trusting that she would choose me.
“I know a lot about disappointing the ones you love; it’s all I’ve ever been good at. I don’t want that for you; it’s a lonely existence. You need to figure out how to fix this, and if you think that my not being in the picture is a way to start…” Raymond strokes his grease stained fingers across his chin, letting the dusting of stubble rub the skin of his knuckles, and after a long pause, he finally finishes his speech. “Well, if you think it will help, then I will bow out. If you want me in your life, you can find me. I’ll always be here if you’re ready; if she’s ready. But I won’t pursue you anymore. I’m not letting you choose this time; I’m telling you to go get her.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling the relief that his words bring me. “Thank you,” is all I can muster.
“If she’s what you really want, then you fight like hell for her, Brooks. My sins are not yours, and don’t you think for one second that that beautiful girl doesn’t know that.”
He pats my knee as he passes by me, causing a smile to form on my face. The expression was a nice reprieve from the constant scowl I had been wearing for the last hour. “Good bye, Brooks.”
“Bye, Ray.”
I hear the door close behind him, and I’m left in solitude once again. This time though, instead of grieving over the woman I loved and lost, I devise a plan to win her back.
Friday Night
Brooks
Her words play over and over again in my mind. She didn’t want to see me, she didn’t want to even look at me. All this time I had worried that it would be too much for her to handle, that she would refuse me, turn me away when she found out. That’s exactly what happened. The thing that has my insides tangled though is that I’m not sure if it would have played out any differently had I told her the truth from the beginning.
I did the only thing I could think of to try to win her back. I tried to make her see that I was willing to put myself out there for her, and she didn’t want anything to do with me. I hurt her so badly; who I am has hurt her, us, beyond repair.
Her words punctured my heart, and before I let myself bleed out all over the floor in front of her, I left as quickly as I could. As soon as I hit the door, though, my pace slowed, and for the last half hour I’ve been sitting in my car in the bar parking lot with the ignition running. I have no idea what to do or where to go next. Without Vivian in my life, I’ve lost all direction. Everything points toward her, toward our life together. The life I had before, filled with constant work and meaningless sex is not what I want anymore. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t make her love me, make her want me, now that she knows who I am.
Picking up my cell, I call the only person I have in my life that would actually meet me at this hour, who would have no interest in lecturing me or fucking me. My list of friends is short, but Lakin is at the top of that list. He has always been there for me when I needed him, whether to listen, to kick my ass, or just get me drunk. Tonight called for the latter.
“Dude, what happened? I thought tonight was the big hoopla for Vivian?”
Niiiiice, not even a hello. Doesn’t that give you a warm fuzzy feeling inside? “Yeah, it didn’t go well; I’m still here, just in the parking lot.”
“You know, if you sit there long enough, people will call the cops and tell them that there is a creepy stalker-like guy in the parking lot waiting to attack women. Man, I would hate to see you on the news.”
I roll my eyes at his attempt to lighten the situation, but his humor does nothing for my mood. “Lakin, I need to let off steam, get drunk, wallow in my fucking misery right now–not joke about what a piece of shit I am. Are you in or out?”
“You know I’m in. Meet me at The Cruise Room in twenty minutes.”
I really wasn’t in the mood for Cruise, but if he was willing to hang out with my sorry ass, I would let him pick the place. The Cruise Room is a high-class martini bar styled in a 1930s art deco décor, even the waitresses wear 1930s attire. Its elegant crimson tapestries have earned the establishment the nickname The Red Room. It’s a great place to enjoy a quiet drink with friends, and socialize—a.k.a. pick up professional women looking for an evening to release the tension of the stressful workday. It is not the place to get trashed and make a fool of yourself as pity swallows you alive, which is the situation I’m aiming for.
“You sure about Red Room tonight?” I ask. “I was thinking tequila, and a possible drunk and disorderly charge, not martinis and cougar prowls.”
“Nice, smartass, you need a distraction. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter what kind. See you in a few.”
When I arrive at the bar inside the Oxford Hotel, Lakin is perched on a cream-colored leather barstool and is leaning on the black marble bar top. The red lighting provides an ambiance of elegance. It has a romantic tone of an era in the past, and stepping through the door is like transporting back to the time of prohibition. Lakin doesn’t notice me as I approach. The bar is packed with men in their high-dollar Armani suits and women in their flashy designer dresses and heels. I feel the ladies’ eyes on me as I pass by them, and a few months ago, I would have obliged their flirtations, but not anymore. I’m no longer interested in the easy one-night-stand fucks. All I want is Vivian.
I slide up next to my brother, taking in the row of liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, analyzing which one would get me to the state of numbness that I desire the fastest. When the bartender steps up to us, providing a slight head nod to ask what we would like to order, I begin to open my mouth to ask for a Johnny Walker Black, but Lakin speaks over me.
“He’ll have a Jack and Coke, please.” He glares at me from the corner of his eye, challenging me to change my order.
“Fine, but if you’re going to order for me like an arrogant asshole, then you can pay for my drinks, too. Just remember, I’m not putting out, though,” I tease.
“Well, I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he says, throwing down his credit card for the bartender.
I huff, and we wait in silence for my drink. I signal the bartender to wait a second while I down the drink, and then ask for another.
Lakin laughs, “You’re a fucking mess, man. I was sure that your stunt tonight would have worked. You must have really screwed it up with her.”
“You’re a fuck-stick, Lakin, you know that?” I lightly punch him in the arm. He shields himself and laughs even harder.
“Okay, okay, well here then.” He holds up his glass to toast. “Here’s to the king bachelor, drinking himself into oblivion. Welcome back to the single life, buddy. What better place to start than The Red Room, brother?”
We clink our drinks together and take a gulp, but I say nothing about his comment. I have no intention of going down the same path of my previous single life. Looking back, it’s not one that I’m proud of; I was the guy that I would want Grace to stay far away from.
We sit in silence for another few minutes before the thing that I was hoping to avoid happens. Two beautiful women surround Lakin and me at the bar. They are both gorgeous, and I’m fairly certain that with a little effort I could have my choice of either. A brunette takes a seat next to my brother, but the leggy blonde squeezes in between us, confidence and sex appeal oozing out of her. Her breasts are jacked up to the sky from Victoria’s latest secret, and if she’s not careful, everyone here will be able to see if Spanx are keeping her ass from jiggling, or if a thong and lunges were the order of the day.
“Well hello, ladies, how are you this evening? Can we buy you a drink?” Lakin’s eyes roam the body of the woman next to him; he’s clearly interested in what could be in store for him this evening.
“We both would be up for a Screaming Orgasm, if you’re offering,” the blonde whispers in my ear as she begins to rub my forearm that’s resting on the cool marble. Before Vivian, I would already have her spread out and under me in a room upstairs or pounding into her up against a bathroom stall. But now, I feel nothing. She doesn’t smell like vanilla and jasmine, she doesn’t feel like smooth rose petals, and her hair is not the fiery auburn that I love. No, she is everything Vivian isn’t; this girl is in-your-face and overdone. She’s the typical trophy wife material that would spend your money and then silence you with a blowjob. Exactly what I don’t need or want.
Lakin orders the girls’ drinks, and I attempt to slide my arm away from the talons of the blonde. She releases my arm, but then moves lower to my thigh. Her perusal up the inside of my leg towards my balls has me adjusting in my seat; uncomfortable with the situation is putting it lightly. I grab her hand and place it back onto the bar top.
She shoots me a look of displeasure. Yep, this one is not used to being rejected, and escaping the web she’s weaving around me will not be easy. “Come on, let’s go dance. You look like you need to loosen up,” she coos.
“No, I’m good where I’m at, but thanks,” I say, turning my attention back to my drink. I can see her turning to Lakin for help, and he indulges her by pushing me on my chair.
“Yeah, bro, you need to loosen up. It’s not polite to refuse a lady when she requests a dance.” His smirk slithers across his face. I need to remember to stay over at his apartment so I can smother him in his sleep; the shithead will pay for this.
I reluctantly shove off my stool and allow her to lead me out to an open area. There is no real dance floor, and the jukebox is meant to provide an ambiance, not dance music. As soon as she finds the spot she likes, she turns to me and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her.
Her overwhelming scent of perfume and hair products almost make me gag, and her obviously fake boobs press into my chest, distracting me when she asks for my name.
“Feeling something you like?” she asks, weaving her fingers through my hair, snapping my attention back to her and the question she asked. “I said my name is Nicole, but my friends like to call me Nikki. What’s yours, handsome?” She giggles.
“Sorry, it’s been a long night; my name is Brooks.” I move away from her a bit to give myself a little room to breathe.
Not taking the hint, Nikki moves in closer, rubbing her hands up my back under my suit jacket. I make a mental note to burn this suit when I get home. I don’t care that it costs more than most people’s paychecks; I would never get her smell out of it.
“Don’t be so shy, Brooks. I won’t bite,” she breathes into my ear. “Well, unless you’re into that kind of thing,” she adds, and then licks the side of my neck.
I grab her arms and push her away as quickly as I can. This is heading out of the safe-zone, and I don’t want anything to do with this girl. “Look, Nikki, you’re an attractive girl, but I’m not interested. I’m here to have a drink and that’s it. I’m not looking for any company.”
Not giving up so easily, she throws me a curve by grabbing and massaging my dick. “Really?” she spits out. “I think your cock didn’t get the message, because he clearly wants company.”
I carefully remove her hand. My words, however, are not so delicate. She has crossed a line and I no longer care about her feelings. “Yes, maybe he does want company, but my cock never ventures into areas that will leave him with something extra that only a medical professional can get rid of…but thanks for the offer.”
I hastily turn away from her stunned, disgruntled face and walk back to Lakin. He instantly notices my dismay and provides the similar perplexed look that I left behind on the dance floor. He leans around me, and I’m sure he sees one pissed off Nikki behind me.
“What the fuck, man?” he growls. “That chick was hot; what did you do? You asked for a distraction, and I’m trying to provide you with one.”
I pat him on the shoulder in an attempt to cool his flaring temper. I know that by my rejection of Nikki, his evening with slutty brunette will now crash and burn. “I asked you to get me drunk, not laid, Lake. Besides, I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to avoid gonorrhea; I don’t have any desire to have it now.”
“Since when do you care if it’s alcohol or pussy that brightens your night, Brooks?”
I throw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and adjust the sleeves on my jacket. “You’re right; I never cared before. Now I care. I appreciate your effort, but I’m just not interested. Please stay, enjoy your evening, but I’m going to head home.”
I don’t let him try to talk me into staying or offer to come with me. I shuffle past Nikki, who has found her next target for the evening, and from the looks of it, the bloke she’s selected will have no problem accepting her advances.
As quickly as I can, I drive home, aching to just collapse onto my bed. Everyone is sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb anyone. I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb under the duvet. I stare at my phone, willing it to show a text or missed call from Vivian, but there’s nothing. She has nothing that she wants to say to me. She wants nothing to do with me.
I bring up the keyboard and type the only words that I want her to remember, the only words that I have to say to her. My thumb hovers over the send button, but I stall, taking a deep breath, hesitating even more. Before I can change my mind, I hit send, turn off the lamp, and roll under my blankets, hoping that sleep will help to erase the heartache that has consumed me.
